Hello, I Dislike You Intensely. Have a Nice Day.

The day was a horrible blur from 2:53 PM to now. First was the Alex/Delia break-up switcheroo debacle, with him pleading me over and over not to be mad, me being unable to supply much of a reaction, and him misconstruing my silence as anger and getting really upset and pacing around swearing a lot.

Then was the call from Marina's mom saying she'd found her slumped over in the car with the engine still going and the garage door closed. And that she'd called 911 and Marina's dad but didn't know who to call after that, so she found my number on Marina's phone and called me.

And I went cold and I couldn't think and Alex asked me what was the matter. I can barely remember the stuttery word-salads that came from my mouth in an attempt to explain what had happened but he seemed to understand, and the next thing I know is that I'm on a bus. After this sinks in, I say something to the effect of, "You idiot, you don't realize how slow buses are, we'll never get there in time", but he bore with me and we finally, finally get off after an agonizing amount of stops and crowds of people. Then, a lot of running around and panicking, trying to find the goddamn hospital already. Finally an ambulance comes screaming past like a crazy person and on a hunch we sprint to keep up with it - sure enough, it leads us to the hospital.

We burst into the waiting room like the Spanish Inquisition; nobody expecting us, but nobody really caring. Except then Marina's mom sees us and says how glad she is that somebody came; her hand touched my shoulder and I could feel its coldness through the fabric of my shirt. "We knew there was something wrong," she said. "Moving so suddenly, and the name change, that was the farthest thing from easy I've ever known. And not just that, but moving back when we were just getting used to our new lives, it was..." She shook her head, leaving the sentence unfinished. "But you know, major life changes can be a trigger for it."

"A trigger...for what?"

"Depression."

"Depression? She was fine, though." I thought over this again - had she been fine? I could not say. And then the first traces of horrified guilt crept over me - I couldn't say because I hadn't been paying attention. I hadn't been paying attention, because -

"I don't think I've met you," Mrs Lova's voice interrupted my chain of thoughts, yet completed it.

"Oh, I'm Alex," Alex said. "I'm Dani's boyfriend." He'd barely said the words when I blurted, "Really, Alex, you don't have to stay here." This time I'd barely felt the thrill of excitement I usually got when he called himself my boyfriend in front of someone else. "But I'd like to," he said. "But it's not necessary," I countered.

"You're so nice, Alex," Marina's mother said. "Let him stay if he wants, Dani. I don't mind." I had to let it drop after that.

A little bit later, though, Mrs Lova's phone buzzed, making everyone jump. She ducked into a corner and answered in a hushed voice. I pulled Alex into another corner and informed him, "Look, you really don't have to stay here." He said, "Would you rather I didn't? Because if you do, you can just say so." I took a breath and let it out. "Yeah...I'd rather you didn't." "Alrighty, then." He gathered my hands into his and kissed the tops of my wrists, something I liked to believe only he did. "I hope your friend gets better." And he left.

And the minute he left, I regretted ever sending him away. I closed my eyes, remembering the time he circled my wrist with his thumb and index finger, amazed at how skinny they were. I'd never broken a bone in my body, and he said my wrists made him nervous, how they felt in his fingers like an accident waiting to happen. Kissing them was good luck and a safety precaution. Like how telling your mom you loved her would prevent her from getting in an accident on her way to work.

I couldn't believe I'd left myself alone. None of it was Alex's fault, I realized. He'd been nothing but incredible, even if he had slipped a little that night out in the woods. But at the heart of it, I had no one to blame but myself.

Following that were what felt like 3 hours of torturous wait, scribbling in this book, and hating myself. Then, finally, the news came that she would be okay. That it'd been a close call and at one point they hadn't thought she would pull through, but now everything was probably going to be fine and they doubted any permanent effects. I was so wound up from the waiting and the self-loathing and the frantic-ness of the afternoon that I cried when I heard this. Mrs Lova, however, remained perfectly serene. She offered to drive me home since nobody except immediate family could see Marina right then, but I felt too guilty to accept. "You should stay here, with her," I said. I called my mom to take me home.

"I'm so sorry," she said to me in the car.

"All of it is my fault. I just wasn't paying attention. I was being so careless."

She didn't disagree. Secretly, I think she knew it was because of Alex. But she said, "You didn't do anything to her. It was completely her decision to leave her car on in an enclosed space."

"But maybe if Marina'd had someone to confide in, she never would've felt the need to."

We were approaching a yellow light. Normally, Mom speeds up when she sees one, hoping to slip through in the nick of time, but not tonight. She'd slowed and stopped before the light even turned red. "Sometimes terrible things happen. People slip away from us just when we're looking the other direction. It happens every day, in every place. You're fortunate to still have her."

"She'll hate me."

"At least she's okay. I think that's the best you can ask for today."